


Chelicerata

by LadySlytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Rating: NC17, Slash, creature!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySlytherin/pseuds/LadySlytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his sixth year, Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. Now, as he starts his 7th and final year at Hogwarts, all he wants is to be a normal teenager. Unfortunately, Harry is about to find out that he’s a Chelicerata. And it doesn’t get much further from normal than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sharp-Tongued

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Courtney Rutherford](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Courtney+Rutherford).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so…this ignores HBP and DH. Mostly because they get in the way of my lovely plots, lol. Harry has defeated the Dark Lord (I don’t care how; it’s not important. Think whatever makes you happy.) and now he’s back at Hogwarts for his 7th year, attempting to have a normal life for once. Of course, things are never that simple for Harry and he’s going to find out that he’s a Chelicerata; a rare magical Creature that everyone believes is extinct. Poor Harry. Please leave me reviews; I love them a lot! Happy reading!
> 
> ~ Lady S.

Saturday, December 20th, 1997:

 

Harry shivered and clung tighter to the hand holding his. It was cold and snow was falling in gentle puffs and Harry didn’t care. He was at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord had been dead for 7 months, and he was on a date. Harry smiled shyly at Zacharias Smith as the boy looked over at him. He’d been nervous about going to Hogsmeade with a boy, but everyone had taken it really well and, for the most part, left them alone. Now they were walking along the edge of the lake and the sun was setting and Harry felt more content than he could ever remember feeling. He had a boyfriend, no threat of eminent death, and it was nearly Christmas.

 

Zacharias stopped and Harry stopped as well. “Zach?” Harry questioned breathlessly as the dark-haired boy pulled Harry flush against his chest.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Harry.” Zacharias was staring at him with intense blue eyes and Harry shivered in his arms. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Harry blushed, but nodded, whispering. “I…I’ve never kissed a boy before.” His cheeks grew redder and he added softly. “In fact, I’ve only kissed a few times at all.”

 

Zacharias rubbed his nose gently against Harry’s, smiling. “Well, we’ll just have to fix that, now won’t we?” He leaned down, brushing his lips softly over Harry’s. “Is this okay, Harry?” He murmured, softly kissing Harry’s lips again.

 

Harry smiled against the other boy’s lips. “Yes.” He whispered, bringing his arms up to encircle the taller boy’s neck. “Kiss me again, Zach?” He asked, feeling breathless again.

 

Zacharias Smith was only too happy to comply. He’d wish later that he hadn’t; it would be too late then. He licked Harry’s bottom lip gently and Harry parted his lips eagerly. For a brief moment, Zacharias thrilled at the fact that he was the first boy to kiss Harry Potter. He relished the sweet, chocolate taste of the Boy-Who-Saved-The-World as he stroked his tongue over Harry’s. Harry was feeling confused, himself. He liked Zach…a lot. He’d wanted the other boy to kiss him; he’d _asked_ the other boy to kiss him. But Zach tasted…wrong. It was a harsh, bitter taste and Harry didn’t like it. He felt Zach’s tongue sweep across his and suddenly his mouth was flooded with a sharp, metallic flavor. It drowned his tongue and Zach pulled back quickly.

 

Harry turned his head and spat, trying not to gag as the blood that had filled his mouth stained the snow an ugly red. “Oh Merlin…” He turned, horrified, to stare at Zacharias.

 

“What…” Zacharias stopped, whimpering in pain. Finally, he continued, blood dripping down his chin. “What did you _do_ to me?”

 

Harry’s eyes were wide and scared. “I didn’t do anything!” Harry insisted, his voice shaking and his stomach churning. “I didn’t!” He started trembling, watching the blood drip off Zach’s chin and hit the snow. “Maybe we should go see Madam Pomfrey…”

 

Zacharias nodded and they began the long walk to the Infirmary. Zach was very careful not to touch Harry. Something wasn’t right with the smaller boy. One second he’d been happily kissing Harry, then the next his tongue was bleeding. It wasn’t _right_. Everything in Zacharias screamed for him to get away from the other boy. His instincts labeled Harry as dangerous, even though his experiences said Harry wouldn’t hurt him. Harry wouldn’t hurt _anyone_. He was too sweet. Zach forced himself to keep walking beside the Gryffindor boy; he really did need to go to the hospital wing. He could still taste blood and could feel it running down his face and filling his mouth. Just before they entered the school, Zach turned and spit out a mouthful of the dark red blood. Even though it was his, something told him he didn’t want to swallow it.

 

They hurried into the hospital wing. While Harry ran to get Madam Pomfrey, Zacharias spit into a sink. His tongue felt strange; almost numb and a little swollen. It was still bleeding as well. As Madam Pomfrey rushed over to him, he spit again. “Hurts…” He whimpered to the Mediwitch, who clucked her tongue sympathetically.

 

“Come here, dear. Let me see.” She made him sit on a bed and open his mouth and stick his tongue out. She and Harry gasped in unison and the Mediwitch gave him a funny look. “Mr. Smith, what did you do; lick a razor blade?”

 

She clucked her tongue and began to heal his tongue. Her eyes widened and Zacharias whimpered. “Mr. Smith, how did this happen?” Poppy’s voice was harsh.

 

Harry answered, cautiously. “He…he kissed me, Madam Pomfrey.” The Mediwitch turned to stare at him in shock and Harry blushed, but continued. “We were on a date, coming back from Hogsmeade and just walking around the lake. Zach kissed me and all of a sudden there was blood everywhere…”

 

Poppy frowned. Normally she would believe Harry completely, but this…this didn’t make any sense. “Harry, his tongue has been sliced as though with a blade. He’s also been injected with venom.” Zach’s eyes widened and he whimpered, his tongue still stuck out. “No worries, Mr. Smith. I have spider anti-venom on hand for Hagrid, so we’ll get you fixed up quickly. Now, Mr. Potter, I need to know how this _really_ happened.”

 

Harry stared at her in silence, then whispered. “He kissed me. How…I don’t understand. He kissed me.”

 

Poppy gave Harry a suspicious look. “Sit on that bed over there, Harry.” She pointed and Harry sat. Then she returned to treating Zacharias. She gave him the anti-venom and finished knitting his tongue back together. “There. Good as new, Mr. Smith.” She shot Harry a funny look, then said to the boy in front of her. “I would advise you, Mr. Smith, to not repeat whatever it was that caused this…incident.”

 

Zacharias nodded, casting fearful looks at Harry. “Yes, Madam Pomfrey. I assure you, I have no intention of repeating that mistake.” He practically ran out of the hospital wing as soon as she said he could go.

 

Poppy approached a nervous Harry. “Harry, I’m afraid I need to examine your mouth.” She smiled apologetically. “Is that alright?”

 

“I guess.” Harry was fidgeting nervously. “But Madam Pomfrey, I’m not hurt. Only Zach was bleeding.” Despite his protest, Harry opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

 

Poppy pulled on gloves and very carefully touched Harry’s tongue. Nothing happened, so she ran her finger down the length of it. Still, nothing happened. With a frown, she ran her wand firmly down the length of his tongue – from back to tip – and was startled by the result. A strange pearly liquid beaded on the tip of Harry’s tongue and she quickly caught it in a vial. She continued pressing down on Harry’s tongue, with her wand, in long sweeps. She caught several more drops of the liquid before it stopped appearing.

 

She sighed and set the vial on the table beside her and resumed examining Harry’s mouth. It appeared fine. His tongue, other than the strange liquid, appeared normal as well. Suddenly Poppy had a thought. Very cautiously, Poppy blew a breath into Harry’s mouth. The boy looked at her oddly and she did it again. Harry suddenly made a face and Poppy jerked her fingers out of his mouth. They were bleeding. Casting a quick healing charm, then a protective one, she swiftly grasped Harry’s tongue again. She could feel it cutting at her fingers, but the protection charm held and her skin remained undamaged. She studied the tongue carefully. It looked the same, even though it felt like it was covered in razor blades. Poppy released Harry’s tongue and stepped back, her hands shaking.

 

“I need to get the Headmaster, Harry. And Professor Snape.” She tried to smile reassuringly at Harry, but it didn’t work. She was shaking too badly. “Just…wait here.” With that, she rushed off and left a confused and frightened Harry Potter sitting on the bed, with no clue as to what was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…that’s Chapter One! I’m not fond of Zacharias Smith (he just strikes me as a little prick), which is why I made him the victim in this chapter. I’m enjoying this so far. I will be explaining more about what Harry is in the next chapter. Let me know what you thought of it so far! Reviews are cherished. <3
> 
> ~ Lady S.


	2. Venomous

Harry had been in the hospital wing for hours. Hermione and Ron were sitting with him now, chattering about nothing. Harry had explained what had happened with Zacharias and not even Hermione had a clue as to what was going on. This, Harry felt, did not bode well. Snape had been busy making a potion when Poppy called, so the meeting to discuss Harry was put off until he was finished. Harry wasn’t happy to be left waiting, but knew better than to protest. Snape wouldn’t walk away from a potion for anything.

 

Finally Albus, Poppy, and Snape entered the room. Hermione looked at them anxiously and Ron said firmly. “We want to stay with Harry, Headmaster.” He knew if Albus said yes, no one else would argue. “We’re his best friends and we won’t leave him.”

 

“Of course, Ron.” Albus smiled. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

 

Poppy sighed, shaking her head, and handed Severus the vial. “Severus, dear, what do you think this substance is?”

 

Severus held the vial up to the light, swirling it around. He frowned at it, swirling it again. Then he sniffed it. “Well, Poppy, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s venom. Spider, actually. It’s similar to Acromantula, but there are slight differences. The viscosity isn’t quite right, nor is the smell. I would assume it came from some close relative, though.” He frowned at the vial. “Where did you get this from?”

 

“From Harry.” Poppy explained. “Here; I have a feeling it’s been long enough that I can show you. Harry, do you mind?”

 

Shaking his head, Harry stuck out his tongue. Poppy began running her wand down it again and after a few strokes more venom beaded on the end of it. Stunned, Snape held the vial under the tip of Harry’s tongue, catching it. This time it took longer for the venom to stop. Poppy sighed and stoppered the vial, setting it on the table. She looked very grave.

 

“I believe that there was only a small amount the first time because Harry had just injected Mr. Smith’s tongue full of it.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I believe that, for safety reasons, Harry should be drained of the venom every three to four hours. We don’t need anyone else being poisoned.

 

Albus’s eyes twinkled brightly. “Mr. Smith’s tongue, you say? Why Harry, however did you manage that?”

 

Harry blushed, looking down at his lap. “I, er…that is…Zach kissed me and then he just…started bleeding.”

 

“Did you bite him?” Severus demanded sharply.

 

Harry’s head snapped up. “What? No!” Harry was horrified. “No, of course not! He just put his tongue in my mouth and it touched mine and then…he was bleeding.”

 

Poppy sighed. “Harry, would you mind sticking your tongue out again?” Harry complied, looking resigned. Poppy cast a protective charm on Snape’s hand and gestured. “When I say to, touch Harry’s tongue.” Then she blew into Harry’s mouth. Harry waited and she did it again. He made a face and Poppy said. “Now, Severus.”

 

Looking at the Mediwitch as though she were insane, Severus complied. He frowned and ran his finger over Harry’s tongue; the charm kept him unharmed. “It looks unchanged, but it feels like it’s made of metal blades. How is that possible?”

 

“I have only a theory, I’m afraid.” She sighed and shook her head, looking at Albus with dread in her eyes. “I fear that Harry may be a Chelicerata.”

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Severus snapped. “The Chelicerata are extinct, Poppy. How could Mr. Potter possibly be one?”

 

“What is a…” Harry frowned, struggling with the unfamiliar word. “A Cheli…chelice…what _is_ that?”

 

Severus frowned at Poppy. “They were rare magical creatures, Potter. The Chelicerata were part human, part spider. They were venomous and highly dangerous to any human other than their mate. However, the only way to find their mate was to see if they could kiss them without harming them.” Severus sneered. “Since very few humans were willing to risk injury to kiss one, they died out a few hundred years ago.”

 

Hermione was frowning as she spoke slowly. “Legends say that the first Chelicerata was born from an Acromantula and a witch. They loved each other and, somehow, their magic allowed them to…reproduce. The Acromantula bit her stomach and she soon grew heavy with child. The baby was seemingly human until adulthood, when its tongue became venomous and sharp. Finally he found a witch who was unharmed by his tongue and they were able to be together. So it was for every Chelicerata born after.” Her dark brown eyes flicked to the venom-filled vial on Harry’s bedside table. “Professor, didn’t you say the venom Harry’s secreting seemed very close to Acromantula venom?”

 

“Is there some way to test?” Harry asked softly, his face pale. “I mean, to see if I am one of these spider-things?”

 

“I think the only way to be sure would be to see if…” Poppy sighed. “To see if your kiss harms anyone else, or if this was some sort of strange reaction to Mr. Smith, which I doubt since I’ve been able to trigger the change as well.” She frowned and added. “Although I must insist we continue to drain your venom, because I don’t think you want to risk killing anyone.”

 

“I don’t want to kiss someone if they’re going to come away bleeding!” Harry protested, looking horrified. “It’s just…wrong!”

 

Ron laughed suddenly, looking gleeful. “You could always kiss someone you don’t like.” He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “How about Malfoy? He spent the whole afternoon gripping about how your beauty was lost on an idiot like Zacharias Smith. Bet he’d kiss you.”

 

Harry grimaced at the idea of kissing Draco Malfoy. Though they weren’t really enemies anymore, since the Dark Lord was dead, he still found the blonde to be obnoxiously immature most of the time. “If he agrees, knowing the risk, then fine. I can live with accidentally shredding _his_ tongue.”

 

Severus Snape made a small noise of disgust and said sarcastically. “Really, Mr. Potter. I highly doubt anything is going to happen. There is, as I said, no possible way for you to be a Chelicerata. They are all _dead_.”

 

“Yeah, well, tell that to Zach.” Harry muttered, glaring at his hands. “He’s the one who had to take spider anti-venom after kissing me.”

 

Severus couldn’t think of anything to say to that, snarky or otherwise, so he simply scowled.


	3. Blood and Kisses

Sunday:

 

Draco smiled arrogantly at Harry as he sauntered into the hospital wing. “So, Weasley said you want to kiss me.” The blonde sounded cocky and pleased; he reminded Harry vaguely of Lockhart at moments like this. “I must say, I’m not surprised. Though I wish it weren’t occurring in the hospital wing, with an audience.”

 

Harry sighed, looking annoyed. This was precisely why he hadn’t wanted to kiss Malfoy and had turned down the blonde’s advances. He was just so _annoying_! “Look, Malfoy. I don’t _want_ to kiss you. I just need to see if I’m a…a…”

 

“Chelicerata.” Hermione supplied helpfully.

 

Draco’s eyes widened; his mouth opened and closed a few times before he could finally manage to speak. “You’re serious about that?” Everyone in the room nodded, looking nervous, except Snape who snorted in disbelief. “Well, I don’t particularly want to be poisoned…” Draco hedged, looking a bit unnerved.

 

“Poppy removed the venom.” Harry gestured to a nearly-full vial on the table beside him. “It’s just a matter of seeing if I…slice your tongue up.” Harry winced, hating this. He didn’t really want to hurt _anyone_ ; even Draco. “I sort of did it to Zach yesterday, so…”

 

Draco laughed delightedly. “Oh, wonderful. The little prick deserves it!” He grinned dangerously at Harry. “He was bragging about how he’d be shagging you inside of two weeks as soon as you agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him.”

 

Harry flushed darkly, horrified. Zacharias had seemed so sweet! Maybe he didn’t feel so bad about slicing his tongue up after all...no, he still felt bad. He was just also pissed off now. “So will you kiss me or not, Malfoy?” He forced out between gritted teeth, embarrassed and angry and miserable over the whole thing. “I don’t particularly want to do this, but I would like to know.”

 

Instead of answering, Draco kissed Harry quickly. Harry parted his lips slightly and Draco’s tongue swept into his mouth. He resisted the urge to jerk his head back; the blonde boy tasted almost as awful as Zach had. A sour, vile taste…like Skelegrow, almost. He felt Draco’s tongue brush over his again and fought down a shudder of disgust. Suddenly the metallic taste of blood washed away Draco’s unpleasant flavor and Harry waited. But Draco didn’t pull back right away, so Harry instinctively lashed out. He flicked his tongue out, lashing the roof of Draco’s mouth. The other boy cried out, jerking back with a glare.

 

Harry turned his head and spit blood onto the floor before glaring back. “Next time, try removing your tongue from my mouth _before_ I feel the need to remove it from yours!” He snarled at the other boy as Poppy went about healing the sulking blonde. Then, to the others in the room, he explained. “Zach’s tongue tasted worse, but Malfoy not pulling back made me want to hurt him. I just wanted him away from me.”

 

“Do not worry, Harry!” Albus told him cheerfully. “I have a brilliant idea to help find your mate; trust me!” Harry just groaned.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Monday:

 

Harry stared at the flier on the wall in horror. It was black paper with gaudy gold writing on it, in huge letters. It said, _“Monday, December 22 nd, in the Great Hall, there will be a meeting to search for the destined Mate of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived! All those interested in seeing if they belong at Harry Potter’s side are welcome!”_ Underneath that, in small red letters, it said, _“There is a risk of injury and possible blood loss and poisoning. Staff will be present to ensure the safety of all those involved.”_ Harry wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry. Trust the Headmaster to have such an insane plan.

 

“Oy, mate, it’s not so bad.” Ron tried to bolster his spirits, but his voice wasn’t particularly confident, or cheerful. In an attempt to be helpful, he added. “Besides, maybe you’ll actually find your Mate! That’d make it all worth it, wouldn’t it?”

 

“I guess.” Harry sulked about how much his life sucked as Ron and Hermione dragged him towards the Great Hall. “I just wish my whole life wasn’t a bloody spectacle.” He added, feeling like he’d spent every other day since he turned 11 in the spotlight. Couldn’t he be _normal_ for once?

 

This wish, unfortunately, was not going to come true. Harry was soon seated on a very ornate chair in the middle of the Great Hall. Poppy quickly drained Harry’s tongue of venom. They intended to cast protective charms on the tongues of anyone kissing Harry, but Poppy wasn’t sure if the charm would prevent Harry’s venom from infecting them. She felt it was better safe than sorry. She really didn’t want to have to treat another student for spider venom. As soon as she was done, they opened the doors and let in the other students.

 

Harry sighed as the teachers explained that protective charms would be cast on students wishing to kiss Harry. They also explained that anyone who was _not_ Harry’s Mate would likely feel pain, even if the charm protected them from injury. In the event that a charm broke, or was cast improperly, Madam Pomfrey would be nearby to heal them. Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand tightly as the staff began casting charms. Ron gave him a tight smile. Harry just groaned and waited; the sooner this was over, the happier he’d be.

 

Three hours – and a great many kisses – later, Harry was ready to scream. He’d requested a large, self-refilling glass of water and a bucket so he could swish out his mouth and spit after each kiss. It seemed to annoy those who were kissing him, but Harry didn’t really care. They made his mouth taste bad and he wasn’t going to sit there with a vile taste in his mouth if he didn’t absolutely have to. He knew he was getting frustrated because in the last 20 minutes or so he’d started taking immense satisfaction in the pained looks people got after kissing him. The charms prevented his tongue from actually cutting anyone, but it still wasn’t pleasant to – essentially, anyway – lick a pile of razor blades. The more pleasure Harry took in their suffering, the less patience he knew he had left.

 

Terry Boot – a Ravenclaw boy in Harry’s year – used up the last of Harry’s patience. He apparently had missed the speech about the importance of the protective charm. Or perhaps he was confident that he was Harry’s Mate. Or maybe he was just stupid. Whatever the reason, he approached Harry cockily and leaned in for a kiss. Harry sighed and parted his lips, wincing as the offensive tongue slipped into his mouth. Terry tasted like three-day-old sweat socks and Harry shuddered, trying not to gag. He felt Terry’s tongue slide over his and startled as blood filled his mouth. The other boy jerked back with a scream, clutching his mouth.

 

Harry scowled darkly and quickly swished his mouth out. “Madam Pomfrey!” He called out, temper lacing his voice with bitterness. “I think Terry needs healing.”

 

The Mediwitch bustled over, clucking her tongue. “Silly boy!” She admonished as she had Terry open his mouth. Then she groaned and shook her head. “Come, Mr. Boot. We need to get you to the hospital wing.” She turned to Snape. “Severus, dear, could you please come deal with Harry for me? He’s secreting venom again and I don’t want to have anyone else poisoned. Thankfully Mr. Boot doesn’t seem to be as bad off as Mr. Smith was.” She looked sternly at Terry. “Do not swallow any blood, Mr. Boot. You won’t like the consequences if you do.”

 

Looking terrified, Terry nodded and followed Madam Pomfrey out of the Great Hall. Severus, meanwhile, made his way to Harry’s side. Harry sulked at the stern Potion’s Master. “He should have had a charm on.” He told Snape, then stuck out his tongue petulantly when Snape merely raised an eyebrow.

 

Severus immediately began extracting the venom from Harry’s tongue. The process took several minutes and Harry glared at the students who were staring at him over Snape’s shoulder. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant process for Harry. While he didn’t mind the feel of Snape’s wand pressing into his tongue (Madam Pomfrey’s wand had bothered him far more), he didn’t like the feeling of his tongue losing venom. It felt like something important – a protection, really – was missing from him. It left him feeling slightly vulnerable. Still, he’d grown more accustomed to the feeling over the last three days and knew he had to tolerate it. Not, of course, that that meant he was _happy_ about it.

 

Once it was done, Severus stood and addressed the students. “Mr. Potter is now venom-free and is once again safe to kiss, though I would strongly advise a protective charm. While he is not poisonous right now, his tongue can still inflict a great deal of damage.” He sneered nastily at the students grouped before him. “Of course, if you feel the urge to be incredibly stupid, like Mr. Boot, please do not allow me – or common sense – to stop you. Feel free to injure yourselves as much as you like.”

 

The students were all looking at each other fearfully. It had been one thing to hear the others speak of how sharp Harry’s tongue felt. It was quite another altogether to see someone led away, bleeding and poisoned, after kissing Harry. Sure, they had heard of the risks…but to actually _see_ it happen was very different. Harry sighed; perhaps this ordeal would be over sooner than he thought. It seemed no one wanted to kiss Harry anymore. Harry wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t as if any of them had tasted pleasant, after all. He was certainly not enjoying this little escapade any.

 

With a sneer worthy of Snape gracing his face, Harry said. “Well, if you’re all quite done with shoving your tongues in my mouth then, I’ll just be going. Have a lovely day.”

 

“Wait!” Ginny’s voice pealed through the air as she stepped forward, a determined gleam in her eyes. Harry froze half-way out of his seat. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t try to participate today; he really thought of the girl as a sister, like Hermione. “I’ll kiss you, Harry.” She gave the students around her scathing looks when several of them gasped and tried to pull her back. “I’m certainly not afraid.” She stated proudly, her nose in the air.

 

Harry sank back down into the chair he’d started to rise from and nodded in a resigned way. “If you must, Ginny.” He said, feeling miserable.

 

With a stubborn look on her face, Ginny approached Harry. She leaned forward to kiss him and Harry opened his mouth, a bit reluctantly. Her lips were soft against his and Harry felt her tongue brush lightly over his. She tasted like lemons and salt and vinegar. Not the worst he’d tasted, but still very unpleasant. He felt her tongue flinch as it touched his and waited for her to pull back. She didn’t and so Harry started to. Suddenly slender fingers clenched in his hair, holding him captive, and Ginny determinedly brushed her tongue against his again. Feeling trapped, as he had with Malfoy, Harry instinctively lashed out. He flicked his tongue into Ginny’s mouth, grazing the roof of her mouth. She flinched again and Harry tasted blood, but the determined little witch still didn’t release Harry.

 

Furious, he made a circular motion with his tongue inside her mouth. He felt it cut into the insides of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth again. The taste of blood grew stronger as it filled his mouth. This time she let go, pulling back with a sharp cry. Harry eyed her coldly and swiftly rinsed the blood from his mouth. Ginny stood, tears pouring down her cheeks, with her hands holding her bleeding mouth. She stared at Harry with a look of hurt and betrayal.

 

“Do not attempt to force yourself on me.” Harry’s tone was icy. “I assure you that while the protection charm may save your tongue, if I find you offensive I will happily shred the rest of your mouth in order to get you off of me.”

 

As Ginny ran off to the hospital wing, still in tears, the other students were once again looking fearfully at Harry. His life really did suck.


	4. Dark Magic

Hermione frowned at everyone in annoyance. “Well, really, what did she expect to happen?” She snapped, gaining everyone’s attention. “You don’t just force yourself on someone and especially not a Chelicerata! I’m sorry Ron,” She apologized to her boyfriend. “But it serves Ginny right for not respecting Harry more than that!”

 

Everyone was staring at Hermione and Harry in shock – nowhere on the poster had it specified that Harry was a Chelicerata. Those who didn’t know what that was, were busy having whispered conversations with people who did. “Spider-demon” seemed to be repeated an awful lot and made Harry grind his teeth. He wasn’t a _demon_ , for Merlin’s sake! He was a magical Creature. It was entirely different! He growled softly and Hermione gave him a sympathetic – and slightly apologetic – look. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. Harry was debating about getting up and leaving the Great Hall. The students were suitably distracted and he doubted anyone else was going to try kissing him now, so why not? Just as he started to stand again, though, a harsh laugh broke through the air.

 

“A Chelicerata, Potter? Really?” Blaise Zabini walked forward, drawling in a way irritatingly reminiscent of Malfoy. “Well, you certainly aren’t going to find your Mate at Hogwarts then, are you?”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes and snarled. “What the hell are you talking about, Zabini? Why wouldn’t I be able to find my Mate here? I’ve got as much chance of them being here as anywhere else, after all.”

 

Still chuckling, Zabini raised an eyebrow. “No, Potter, you don’t. Chelicerata are _Dark_ Creatures. They’re mated to only the darkest of Witches and Wizards, because Dark magic begets Dark magic. No normal witch or wizard could have a child with something as Dark as a Chelicerata. Only someone who practices Dark magic will satisfy you.”

 

Hermione scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, Zabini. Harry is the furthest thing from Dark and everyone knows it!”

 

“Potter might be Light,” Blaise conceded coolly. “But Chelicerata are Dark and I assure you that his Creature instincts will guide his magic in choosing his Mate. And the Mate will be Dark, because regardless of the fact that Harry Potter the _wizard_ is Light, that is not what stands next to you now. And Harry Potter the Chelicerata is Dark by nature.”

 

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance. She wondered vaguely why none of the staff was interfering with the rude Slytherin boy and then decided it didn’t matter. She’d handle this all on her own if she had to. “Listen, Zabini, I don’t know what makes you think that, but nothing made in love can be Dark. Love between a witch and an Acromantuala allowed the first Chelicerata to be born and since love is the most powerful _Light_ emotion, the Chelicerata can’t be Dark.”

 

“What?” Blaise laughed, utterly delighted. “You silly little twit; that story is just that. A story told to small children, like Beauty and the Beast. It’s not what _happened_.”

 

“And who died and made you an expert on this anyway?” Hermione demanded coldly, furious at being laughed at, as well as at being called a ‘silly little twit’, of all things.

 

“My mother has been married seven times, Granger.” Blaise drawled in amusement. “I’ve been all over the world and talked to all manner of people. I know more about most things than all the books in the library combined.”

 

Hermione’s mouth pursed tightly once again, and Harry sighed, knowing he had to say something before his friend hexed Zabini. “Then where do Chelicerata come from?” He asked the caramel-skinned boy softly. “Since you’re so…informed.”

 

“A sorceress wanted to birth the most powerful child ever.” Blaise answered in a bored voice. He didn’t notice it, but everyone in the Great Hall was listening intently. “She was determined to do so, no matter the cost. So she got herself pregnant and then proceeded to infect herself with all manner of Dark magic. Her first attempt – manticore, I think – killed the baby, but not her. She tried again and again and again, uncaring how many babies died so long as she got what she wanted in the end.”

 

His dark eyes locked with Harry’s green ones and he continued his story. “Finally, she tried Acromantula venom. She was pregnant again and she injected her belly with the poison, determined that _somehow_ she would birth a child more powerful than any other.” He sneered slightly, as though the idea had merit but he thought the woman foolish for the way she went about it. “The baby inside her lived. When he was born, he showed no signs of being different, though, and she was frustrated.”

 

He chuckled darkly. “You can imagine her surprise 17 year later when the boy developed his unique tongue. She was thrilled, though, because no other baby had lived through her subsequent experiments with other types of poisons and Dark magic. Once she realized what her son was, she had three more children, all infused with Acromantula venom during the pregnancy.”

 

Harry sighed unhappily. This story made far more sense than Hermione’s version had. After all, even if you somehow managed to fall in love with a giant spider, how could a bite impregnate someone? Even magic didn’t usually work that oddly. But magical venom mutating a child still in the womb…well, that made far more sense. It was creepier, in a way, and did lend itself to the idea that Harry was a Dark Creature, but it made sense. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of being Dark, or of his Mate being Dark, but he supposed there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. Besides, Dark or Light, he hadn’t really wanted to be part spider anyway. Did the label really make much difference? He was a bit creepy regardless.

 

Blaise smiled coldly at Harry, a sneer twisting his face unpleasantly. “Perhaps, Potter, you should try this little kissing game at Azkaban.”

 

Ron snarled angrily at the dark-skinned boy. “Shut up, Zabini! Not all witches and wizards who’ve practiced Dark Magic are evil, you know! And they certainly aren’t all in Azkaban prison!”

 

Zabini let out a sharp, cold laugh; it was a bit like icicles, really. “Oh really, Weasley? Name one witch or wizard who has practiced Dark Magic that isn’t currently in Azkaban.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened as Ron snapped back an answer without thinking. “Snape!” He bit out triumphantly. “He’s not in Azkaban, obviously!” He gestured to where the man in question still stood beside Harry. “And I’m sure there are others as well!”

 

Blaise was laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach. “Oh, Weasley, that was priceless! As though Professor Snape would _ever_ kiss Potter! We Slytherins have a bit more self-preservation than to just go around sticking our tongues down the throat of a magical creature. I would think even _you_ would know _that_.”

 

“Malfoy kissed him.” Hermione pointed out in a low voice that carried anyway, though Blaise seemed to ignore her comment entirely. “And he’s a Slytherin. But it certainly wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to kiss Harry anyway.” She added, almost as an afterthought.

 

Severus watched as Harry’s face twisted into an expression of abject misery. “Is everyone too frightened to kiss me, then?” He demanded angrily. When no one stepped forward or spoke and Blaise simply grinned smugly at this result, Harry sighed and pushed to his feet. “Fine, then. I’ll just be going to bed. If anyone should happen to speak to a Dark Arts practitioner, please let them know I’m available to be kissed any time.” His voice was waspish and snarly-sounding, but the defeat shone in his emerald eyes.

 

Severus took a deep breath and steeled himself. The only way to prove to the students that they still had a chance was by showing that a person who practiced the Dark Arts was rejected by Potter. Unfortunately, Weasley had been correct. He, Severus Snape, was the only person around who fit that description. He had also promised his best friend, Lily Evans Potter, that he would do everything he could to watch out for Harry. He supposed this situation fell under that category, in some way. Severus caught the Headmaster’s eye and quirked a brow – he had no intention of getting fired just to prove a point. Albus smiled slightly, his blue eyes twinkling, and nodded once.

 

“Mr. Potter.” Harry had gotten only a few steps before that cool, velvety voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Yes, sir?” Harry asked softly, half-turning around again to peer over his own shoulder at Severus with enigmatic green eyes. “Did you need something?”

 

“Mr. Zabini’s theory is interesting, Mr. Potter.” Severus said silkily, his voice little more than a purr. “However, as Mr. Weasley pointed out, I am the only person skilled in the Dark Arts that is present. Perhaps we should prove Mr. Zabini’s theory is incorrect?”


	5. Sweetness

Harry stared at Severus Snape in shock. Had the man really just offered to kiss him, in front of everyone, to prove that being “Dark” did not automatically make someone his Mate? Harry had to admit that the idea was partially valid, at any rate. No one would kiss him if they thought they had to be Dark to get him. Well, not no one, but no students, certainly. If, however, they saw him reject a “Dark” person, they would be more inclined to believe that being Dark wasn’t necessary criteria for his Mate. And he was right; there was no one else available to do this. It was a bit strange to think of kissing Severus Snape, though. Harry studied the Potion’s Master for a long, silent moment. He wasn’t really attractive, but he wasn’t disgusting either. He was simply…different. All darkness and brooding and his voice was practically pure sex, so that was always a plus. Harry suddenly realized he’d been kissed by many of the students already and Snape certainly wasn’t worse than most of them, so what did it hurt?

Harry nodded slowly and turned completely around to face his teacher. He took four steps forward until he was standing before the black-robed man and smiled slightly up at him. “If you’ll cast the protective charm?” He murmured softly.

Blaise was watching them with wide eyes, as was Hermione – though for different reasons. Ron looked a bit grey, but he had pressed his mouth tightly together and seemed to understand why it was necessary. Harry appreciated his silence, and his support. Most of the students were frozen in place. Harry attributed this to the idea of Snape kissing anyone, more than the fact that Snape was kissing him, but the fact that he was Harry Potter probably added to the shock. Severus raised his wand and directed it at his own mouth, then stopped and seemed to contemplate something. He lowered his wand without casting the charm.

“Sir?” He asked, frowning. Had the man changed his mind about the kiss? “Shouldn’t you cast the charm?” He queried softly.

“No.” Severus smirked. “I believe it will be more effective for the students to see the full result in this particular case.” When Harry’s verdant eyes widened, he added smugly. “If I can withstand Cruciatus from the Dark Lord, I’m sure I can handle your tongue.”

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded. Severus knew instinctively that Harry would not approach him, so he stepped forward, closing the small distance between them swiftly. He reached out and curled his hand behind Harry’s neck, tugging the teen up onto his toes before leaning down. Harry’s mind stopped working as Severus Snape’s mouth touched his. He tentatively parted his lips, wondering what his teacher would taste like. Then a warm, wet tongue slid into his mouth and Harry had his answer. Cool mint and honey mingled on his tongue and Harry reacted without thinking about it.

He stretched up higher onto his toes, wrapped his arms around Snape’s neck, and pressed their bodies together. He sucked on Severus’s tongue and whimpered at the delightful taste. He could feel the surprise radiating off of the older man and hoped he wasn’t angry. Harry felt the delicious tongue retreating and followed it back into Snape’s mouth. He flicked his tongue over slightly-crooked teeth and happily stroked his tongue over the roof of Snape’s mouth. Harry felt the hand on the back of his neck tighten slightly and a low growl reverberated against his lips before Snape slid his other arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him tightly against him.

Harry felt the whole world rearrange itself in those moments. Nothing mattered more than the man he was pressed against. This sinfully-delicious person would be his, forever. He suddenly heard a cold, obnoxious laugh and pulled away from the kiss with a snarl, turning towards the hateful sound. It was Blaise Zabini, who was laughing so hard he had literally ended up on the floor, on his hands and knees. He had tears of mirth running down his face and he giggled uncontrollably, his eyes gleaming brightly. After a long moment he seemed to regain some of his poise and control.

“Oh Merlin…Potter…your mate is Professor Snape?” Blaise snorted and giggled some more, still on the floor. “Oh that’s too rich! I told you it would be someone Dark…”

Harry was suddenly livid. He snarled again and flung out his hand in Blaise’s direction. “Severus Snape is a good man, who helped bring down Lord Voldemort.” He snapped. “Apologize for slandering my Mate, or you’ll regret it.”

Blaise pushed himself up into a kneeling position and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even holding your wand, Potter. What are you going to do?”

Harry had a brief moment where he wondered precisely the same thing. Then, before he knew what was happening, a sticky-looking web shot from the palm of his hand and hit Blaise’s shoulder, linking them together. The Slytherin boy gasped and tried to pull away from it, but the greyish-white substance held firm to the fabric of his shirt. “What the hell is this, Potter? Let me go!” But Harry just laughed, positively delighted by this turn of events. 

He suddenly knew precisely what to do. He curled his fingers slightly and the web retreated into his skin – where there was an odd break in the center of his palm – tugging Blaise closer. He then raised his other hand and made a repetitive circular motion. Blaise began to spin and the webbing grew longer as it wrapped around the screaming boy, binding his arms close to his torso. After five or six spins, Harry stopped and made a whip-like motion with his hand, causing the web to break near Blaise. The extra disappeared back into Harry’s palm and the opening sealed itself shut, leaving only a faint pink line where Harry knew he could create more from if he wanted to.

Albus’s voice shook Harry from his enjoyment of the bound and hysterically-screaming Slytherin prat before him. “Harry, my dear boy, was that really necessary?” Harry would have been more worried, but Albus sounded more amused than annoyed.

So instead of apologizing, Harry sighed and mock-pouted. “But he insulted Severus, Headmaster. If he would have apologized, I would have let it go.” There was a short pause while Harry thought, then he added slyly. “Well, I probably would have let it go, anyway.” He shrugged as though the entire matter was of little importance, then turned to smile sweetly at Severus. “So…where were we?”

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape was unsure whether he should be happy about something, or afraid.


	6. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!
> 
> In this chapter, there is not only explicit M/M content, but there is also a brief moment of absolute creepiness!!! If Harry being part-spider in the previous chapters had you squirming uncomfortably, then this chapter just might send you over the edge! You've been warned. <3
> 
> If you ARE freaked by spiders (and thus by part-spider-persons) you can skip this chapter and simply read the epilogue. This chapter is primarily gratuitous Snarry smut and not much else, lol, and CAN be skipped. The epilogue will still make sense, I promise. 
> 
> Reviews make my day! <3
> 
> ~ Lady S.

Harry smiled seductively at Severus and before the older man knew what was happening, Harry was on him. He wound his arms around Snape’s neck and sealed their mouths together. He moaned when Sev’s hands slid around his waist, then down to his ass. Harry growled low in his throat and jumped up, wrapping his legs around the taller man’s waist. Severus staggered for a moment under the sudden and unexpected addition of Harry’s weight, but caught himself quickly and kissed Harry back. Harry sucked on the deliciously-sinful tongue invading his mouth, growling again.

 

Then Harry pulled back and whispered heatedly. “Your rooms, Severus. Now.”

 

Severus looked over at Albus, who smiled in a fatherly way. “Run along, then.” He said, making a shooing gesture with both hands. “We’ll work out all the details later, my dear boys. For now, we have to figure out how to get Mr. Zabini free of this webbing Harry so charmingly created and you have a Creature that needs attention.”

 

Without a word to anyone, Severus carried Harry from the Great Hall and down to the dungeons. Once securely locked in his own rooms with Harry Potter, he realized that the gorgeous Boy-Who-Lived was actually _his_. No one could ever come between him and the pretty young man. No one could ever say he wasn’t good enough for Harry, or worthy enough, or deserving enough. No one could take this boy from him, ever. He was Harry Potter’s Mate; nothing could change that.

 

With a possessive growl and a quick spell, they were both naked. Harry scrambled onto Severus’s big, black-and-silver bed and reclined against the pillows, shooting Severus a sultry look from under his lashes. “Do you want me, Severus?” Harry asked, feeling suddenly bold and needy; the heat in his blood was pushing away all of his shyness. “Do you want to _fuck_ me?”

 

Severus growled again, low in his throat – just hearing Harry say that was intoxicating – and joined Harry on the bed. Looming over the boy, he grasped Harry’s chin in one strong, long-fingered hand and leaned down to devour the boy’s mouth. He dragged his tongue across Harry’s teeth, learned how the inside of Harry’s cheeks tasted, and stroked the ridges on the roof of his mouth. Then, he moved his mouth to Harry’s cheek. He pressed hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of the Gryffindor’s jaw, flicked his tongue against an earlobe, and then nipped none-too-gently at his neck. He pressed his lips to the spot where Harry’s neck became his shoulder and caught the tendon in his teeth, relishing the feeling of Harry’s back arching, pressing their bodies together. He could feel the Gryffindor’s hard, hot erection against his hip and knew that his own throbbing cock was pressing into Harry’s belly.

 

Suddenly there was an odd sound near his ear; a soft and repeated _click-click-click_ that was interspersed with pants and gasps and whimpers from Harry. Severus pulled back just as Harry raised his hands and webbing shot from both palms, attaching securely to the bedposts. Severus blinked in surprise as Harry twisted his hands around, winding excess webbing around his own wrists until he was bound firmly to the bed. Black eyes widened when he realized that the clicking sound – which was eerily reminiscent of the sound of an Acromantula’s pincers – was coming from his Harry’s mouth. Then the teenager opened his eyes and Severus stopped breathing altogether.

 

Harry no longer had two beautiful, emerald-green, almond-shaped eyes. Instead, his eye sockets appeared to have grown larger and four, solidly-black eyes gleamed in each socket. The eyes within each socket were delineated from each other by strange red lines, as though the white part of his eyes had blossomed with blood. Harry opened his mouth to release more clicking sounds and his tongue slid out. It was long and thin and ended in a point; it was black and segregated and looked sharp and dangerous as it flickered between full red lips. The clicking was being caused by pincers inside Harry’s mouth; they seemed to rest just under Harry’s tongue and were clicking away. Severus stared down at the teenager bound to his bed. Harry was slim and tanned and toned. He had narrow hips and six-pack abs and a firm, perfect ass. His face was delicately beautiful; his body was sleek and desirable. And he also had eight eyes and an arachnid’s appendage for a tongue and pincers in his mouth. Severus shuddered.

 

He understood now why Chelicerata chose Dark Wizards and Witches for their Mates. Because looking down at Harry, Severus didn’t feel disgust or fear, as one might expect. Instead, he felt a disturbing amount of lust spike through him. His cock hardened further, throbbing painfully between his legs. Harry blinked eight eyes at him and tipped his head curiously to the side. His tongue flickered out again, still deadly-looking, and the creepy clicking continued. Severus felt another shiver of desire snake down his spine; he wanted Harry, even like this.

 

“Do I frighten you?” The clicking seemed to underline Harry’s question. “Are you afraid of me now, Severus? Or do you still desire me?”

 

“I desire you.” Severus replied, muttering a quick spell to slick his cock. “I desire you more than I thought possible, Harry. You’re so beautiful like this. Beautiful and deadly.”

 

Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed Harry again. But though the brunette boy’s tongue now looked as painful as it had felt when Severus had helped Poppy examine it days earlier, it still didn’t harm Severus. Nor did the pincers. Harry coiled his tongue gently around his mate’s, sucking lightly and arching his hips so that he could wrap his legs around the older man’s waist. He wanted Severus inside of him with a sort of maddening need that he’d never felt before. He wanted to feel every inch of the cock that was rubbing against his skin buried inside of him. He wanted this man, balls deep in his ass, every moment of every day for the rest of their lives. He wanted to be claimed by his mate…and he wanted it _now_.

 

“Take me!” Harry cried as he broke the kiss, rolling his hips and whimpering as he felt the head of his professor’s cock brush against his entrance. “Please…please, Severus…fuck me…”

 

Harry was half-surprised at the way Snape was responding to him. He could feel the changes; he knew what he’d see if he looked in a mirror. Eight glassy black spider eyes; pincers; long, black, segregated tongue with serrated edges. And yet, somehow, the older man still wanted him; still thought he was beautiful and sexy. He wondered if anyone else would have found him desirable like this. He was blatantly part-spider; the arachnid clearly showed in his appearance. And it didn’t matter. Severus wanted him anyway. Everything was perfect.

 

Severus leaned down to drag his tongue along Harry’s jaw and slowly thrust forward, pushing his cock past the tight ring of muscle at Harry’s entrance. Harry made a high keening sound, the clicking of his pincers growing faster. Severus continued pushing forward until he was entirely sheathed in Harry’s hot, tight body. He licked along Harry’s collarbone, then moved his mouth to Harry’s ear as he waited for the velvety-vice around his cock to relax.

 

“Shhhh…” He crooned in Harry’s ear since Harry was making soft whimpering-whines as he attempted to adjust to having someone inside of him. “Just relax, Harry. It will feel good soon.”

 

As suddenly as it had started, the clicking Harry was emitting stopped. Severus lifted his head to stare down at his young lover and was slightly surprised to see vibrant green eyes staring back. Harry made a soft purring sound low in his throat, arched his back, and said. “Feels good already, Severus.” He twitched his hands and the webbing binding him fell away.

 

Severus blinked in surprise, then a wicked smirk curved his lips. “Well, in that case…” He purred, his voice caressing Harry like warm velvet. “Let’s see if we can’t do a fair-bit better than good, shall we?”

 

He withdrew from Harry’s body, then thrust back in forcefully. Harry keened, his back arching, as something inside him sparked and crackled, like lightening dancing just under his skin. “Yesss…” He hissed, shuddering and clinging tighter to his new lover. “Yes, please…more…”

 

Those were the last coherent words either of them spoke for some time. Severus continued to wring gasps, moans, and keening cries from the beautiful teenager beneath him, thrusting hard and deep and steadily into the boy’s delightful body. Harry, for his part, clawed at Severus’s shoulders and back, tightened the legs he’d wrapped around the older man’s hips, and basically held on for the ride. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the pale, sweat-slicked skin of his professor’s shoulder and neck, flicking out his once-again-normal tongue to taste the salt and musk of the man’s flesh. And when his release ripped through him, hot and fast, he grasped the sensations with greedy fingers and let the power of it whip through him, bright and burning.

 

Severus followed him over the edge, then collapsed onto the younger man. His body trembled faintly as Harry’s legs fell from around his waist and small, soft hands stroked over his back soothingly. After a long moment, Severus groaned and rolled to the side, dragging Harry with him to curl up in his arms. “Don’t want to crush you…” He murmured, exhausted.

 

Harry buried his face in Snape’s chest, his cheeks burning. Now that the need and desire had cooled somewhat, he was mortified. “Er…professor…” His voice was a nervous squeak.

 

Severus chuckled. “Probably best not to call me that anymore, Harry, considering. Or at least not when we’re naked together and still covered in…”

 

“Don’t!” Harry protested, cutting the man off before he could say something indelicate. Harry pushed himself to sitting, dragging a sheet over himself and burying his flushed face in his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly muffled. “Please, don’t say things like that. I can’t…I don’t…”

 

Severus felt a tender smile curve his lips. Harry was still so innocent; what had passed between them hadn’t changed that. And he found the boy’s blushes endearing. He tugged Harry’s hands from his face and grasped the boy’s chin, forcing those green eyes to meet his. “I assure you I’ll say far more in time, as will you.” When Harry made a small, mortified sound, Severus chuckled again and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “Don’t worry; we’ll work up to it. Now sleep for a bit. You’re exhausted.”

 

And because he was, Harry lay back down and snuggled into Severus Snape’s arms, though his cheeks were still hot with embarrassment. And as he drifted off to sleep, everything in him settled. For the first time in his life, Harry was content.


	7. Epilogue - Ever After

Harry sauntered into the Great Hall, studying the twin-thrones set up at the head of it. He glanced slyly over his shoulder at Severus, wiggling his ass – still gorgeous, even after all these years, and encased in black leather trousers – at his lover and husband. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it, Sev?”

 

Severus Snape chuckled and spun Harry around, tugged him into his arms, and kissed that impertinent mouth. “Yes, my love, it does. Now come on; they’re waiting.”

 

Harry loved being back at Hogwarts, even for the nerve-wracking events known as “The Choosing” by the Hogwarts staff and students. Twice he’d come back for these; for his two oldest daughters. Ivy was his oldest and she’d found her Mate at Durmstrang, not Hogwarts. His second child was Delphinia, and she’d found her Mate in Greece just the year before, at the age of 19. The waiting had seemed interminable, to all of them. And now it was his twins’ turn. Araminta, who was so much like him at times that it was frustrating, with her wild thirst for adventure, insatiable curiosity, and mile-wide stubborn streak. And her brother, the first of Harry’s sons, Adariane. Adariane was quiet and calm; a bookish sort. Severus said he’d been much the same way himself, in his youth.

 

Harry’s children rushed up to him, Ivy (22) and Del (20) accompanied by their husbands, and the twins – just barely 17 and looking flushed and eager and nervous. And, of course, his fifteen year old son, Damien, and his 12 year old daughter, Prism. Trailing behind Severus were their younger children; a 9 year old boy named Ian and a 4 year old girl name Anya. The family he and Severus had made was large and, in fact, still growing. Soon, Harry would tell his children of the newest life growing inside him, but for right now his twins deserved their moment. The search for a Chelicerata’s Mate was a big deal. Nearly as big as the birth of a new Chelicerata.

 

“Daddy!” Araminta hugged Harry tightly, then pulled back to look at him with over-bright green eyes and flushed cheeks. “I swear, I’m so nervous I’m going to throw up!”

 

Harry laughed and brushed her long, dark, curly hair back from her lovely face. “Nonsense, Mint.” He chided her laughingly. “You’re going to relax and enjoy everyone vying for your hand, just as your older sisters did.”

 

“And you?” Adariane asked quietly, looking calm and somber as he so-often did. “Did you enjoy your Choosing?”

 

“Harry was more angry than nervous at his Choosing.” Severus purred, brushing his fingers lightly over the heads of each of his children in greeting. “But then, things then were not as they are now.”

 

Albus Dumbledore had implemented a new class the year after Harry graduated, when Harry expressed concerns over how the child then growing inside him – his sweet, precious Ivy – would find her Mate when the Dark Arts were so forbidden and feared. The class was taught by a friend-of-a-friend of Albus’s for the first five years and then taken over – and was still taught by – Draco Malfoy. It was called “Legal Dark Arts” and was an optional course which was now required for several career choices, including Curse Breakers and Aurors, among others. Many students chose to take it and, when a child of Harry’s came of age, they implemented “The Choosing” ceremony, which was modeled after the kissing-booth affair during which Harry had found Severus to be his Mate.

 

Though neither of his first two children had found their Mates at their Choosing ceremonies, the twins were both hopeful. Former-students who had taken the LDA class came back for The Choosing and anyone – even those who did _not_ take the class – were allowed to kiss the of-age Chelicerata. In keeping with Harry’s own Choosing, a self-refilling glass of water and spit-bucket were provided for the Chelicerata in question, but to make it more-sporting a prize was now offered – awarded by the Chelicerata – for the worst-tasting kiss as well as one for the least-offensive tasting (other than their Mate, should they find them). The prizes were gift-certificates for Honeydukes.

 

All-in-all, it was an efficient and effective way of searching for their Mates. Harry smiled easily at his children and said. “I may not have enjoyed the process, but the outcome was perfect. I found my Mate and now I have all of you. So don’t worry too much.”

 

Then Harry watched, smiling softly, as his children clamored to catch up with each other. They’d only been apart for two months, but they were close. Suddenly hands closed over his eyes and a female voice crooned in his ear. “Guess who.”

 

“Aunt Hermione!” Prism was the one who cried out the name, delighted. Hermione was Prism’s favorite person in the world. “You made it!”

 

She dropped her hands from Harry’s eyes and laughed. “Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss Mint and Addy’s Choosing for anything.” She hugged Prism, then each of her nieces and nephews, before hugging Harry. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Well enough. It’s hard to believe they’re old enough for this.” Harry admitted. “Where’s Ron?”

 

“The buffet table, of course.” Hermione rolled her eyes. When Severus moved closer, Hermione tipped her cheek up for him to kiss, which he did dutifully. “Lovely to see you again, Severus, as always. Ready to watch two more of your children kiss their way through dozens of people?”

 

Severus rolled his eyes at the witch; her thick, riotous hair was pulled back into an elegant and sophisticated bun and the smart, slate-blue business suit she wore gave away that she’d been working before coming here. Hermione Granger-Weasley was a liaison for the Muggle-relations department at the Ministry and she was the best there was at what she did. “I merely hope they find their Mates here, as Harry did, rather than having to traipse all over creation and back searching like the other two.”

 

Ron joined them shortly, followed by his and Hermione’s oldest; a boy named Devon who was 18 and already graduated. Their other two children – daughters, age 16 (Evelyn) and 14 (Trinity) were in the crowd somewhere. “We’re getting started soon.” Ron told them around a mouthful of something-or-other; he had a plate loaded with things to munch on. “Minerva’s started casting charms on those who want to try.”

 

Addy and Mint reached out at the same time, linking hands and holding tight. “Do you want to go first, Addy?” Mint offered nervously, trembling faintly. “You _are_ technically older.”

 

But Adariane shook his head, his dark eyes calm and placid under the fringe of his dark hair. “No, that’s alright, Mint. Ladies first.”

 

Harry and his family – including Ron, Hermione, and Devon, who were as much family as the rest of them, blood or not – made their way to the front of the room. Araminta and Adariane sat on the thrones, no longer holding hands. Harry leaned against Severus, saying softly. “I swear, I’m more nervous than Addy.”

 

“He’s a calm sort.” Severus replied, rubbing Harry’s back soothingly. “They’ll be fine.”

 

An hour later, however, Araminta was near to tears. “I hate this!” She cried, her green eyes shining and damp, her full lower lip trembling. “Addy, you take a turn. I just…I need a few minutes.”

 

Adariane bit his lip, looking uncertain for the first time. “Well, I…I actually think I already know who my Mate is.” He admitted sheepishly. When everyone gaped at him, he added. “It’s just a feeling I’ve got, and I suppose I could be wrong, but I just…I _know._ I didn’t want to say anything until Mint knew if she was going to find her Mate here or not.”

 

Mint stared at her twin with wide, green eyes, then smacked his arm. “Well, go kiss them!” She demanded imperiously, waving her hand regally. “And shame on you for not telling me!”

 

Addy ducked his head, blushing, and muttered. “I was a bit worried about…well…Dad being angry.” He peeked up at Harry and added. “I know Father will understand, but…”

 

And Severus _did_ understand, with sudden alacrity. His lips curved upwards into a smirk and he purred softly. “It would be quite hypocritical of Harry not to understand, considering, Addy. I assure you, if you’re right, he’ll be happy for you.”

 

Harry looked between his son and his husband, confused, and said. “Of course I’ll be happy, whoever your Mate is, Addy. Mint is right. You should go kiss them.”

 

Adariane looked at the curious, supportive faces of his parents, his siblings, his aunt and uncle…and then nodded. He stood, walked right over to his LDA teacher, cupped the man’s face in his hands, rolled onto his toes, and pressed their lips together. Draco stiffened, having never been kissed by a student before, then moaned when Addy’s tongue darted into his mouth. Draco hadn’t had a protective charm cast, since he’d had no intention of kissing his students (who just happened to be the children of Harry Potter and Draco’s godfather, Severus Snape), but he didn’t need one. To Addy, Draco tasted like dark chocolate and oranges.

 

He pulled back and blushed, but smiled slyly. “So, Professor Malfoy, it would seem you’re my Mate.” His dark eyes gleamed as he added. “Does that mean I can call you Draco now?”

 

And the blonde laughed, a deep, rich sound that rumbled up from deep in his chest. “Of course you may, Adariane.” Then he leaned down and purred in Addy’s ear. “Though I think it might be interesting if you called me ‘professor’ while I’m buried inside you.”

 

Adariane shivered and let out a soft, breathless moan. Then his face burned with mortification when his father’s deep, sultry voice purred from behind him. “Perhaps, Draco, you could wait to say obscene things to my child until you’re alone with him?”

 

Draco didn’t blush or stammer. Instead, he let one elegant eyebrow wing upwards and smirked. “I could, of course, but he’s got such a lovely blush that I couldn’t resist.” Then Draco turned to Harry and added softly. “I do hope you’re alright with this.”

 

Harry shrugged. “I may not have wanted you when we were teenagers, Draco, but that’s because you were a right obnoxious git back then. You’re not anymore, so it’s alright, I suppose. Especially if it makes Addy happy.”

 

“Well, I think it’s awesome!” Mint hugged Addy then sighed and looked sulky. “And now it’s back to kissing people for me, I suppose. You’ll still sit with me, right, Addy?”

 

Her twin agreed and they wound their way back to the thrones, though Draco now stood beside Addy’s, a hand resting possessively on the beautiful boy’s shoulder. Mint plopped down petulantly onto the throne and waved an imperious hand. “Well, come on then. Someone get up here.”

 

Surprising everyone, it was Devon who stepped forward. He walked up to Araminta, his cheeks flaming as red as his hair, making his freckles stand out more. “If I may…” He asked hesitantly.

 

Araminta blinked, startled. “Oh, well…I don’t see why not, Dev.” She had known Devon all her life, after all, and if she could kiss people whose names she didn’t even know then surely she could kiss him. “You’ve got the Charm on you, then?”

 

“No.” Devon replied in a whisper as he tugged Araminta to her feet. “But I swear to you, I don’t need it. I know I’m yours, just as you’re mine. You’ve _always_ been mine, Minty, from the first time I saw you. It was only you who never knew it.”

 

Araminta opened her mouth to insist he get charmed, just to be safe, and was cut off by his lips and tongue. And blinked in startled surprise all over again at the sweet, soft taste of him. Vanilla and sweetness and light were the best words she could think of to describe it. She pulled back, bringing a hand to her lips and blinking at him, uncertain. Then everything in her went as soft and sweet as he’d tasted, and something warmed and blossomed inside her. It was like something bright and lovely unfurled in her chest, touching every part of her with light.

 

“Oh.” The sound escaped as barely more than a breath.

 

Devon’s smile was slow and sweet and as familiar to her as her own. “Yeah, oh.” He told her quietly, brushing his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “I’ve always known, you know. I was just waiting for you to realize.”

 

Her smile was slow as well, but wicked at the edges. “Well, I’ve certainly realized now, Dev.”  Her green eyes sparkled. “I do hope you’re ready for someone like me.”

 

Devon pressed a laughing kiss to her lips and assured her. “I’ve been ready my whole life, Mint.”

 

Harry’s voice broke into the moment, sounding intrigued. “Devon, you never took the LDA class.”

 

Devon blinked, then looked away from Araminta to his uncle. “No, Uncle Harry, I didn’t. I knew Mint was mine, so I didn’t see the point. It’s not as though I needed it for work or anything.” Devon was a professional Quidditch player, so that was true enough.

 

“So not dark.” Hermione murmured, then a triumphant smile graced her lips. “I am writing Blaise Zabini a letter so I can laugh in his face!” She crowed, clearly delighted. “I _told_ him the Mates of Chelicerata didn’t have to be Dark Arts practitioners!”

 

“She does love being right.” Ron said, amused at his wife’s reaction. “Still, it’s interesting to know. Could be because Dev always knew that Mint was and accepted it as simply being a part of the girl he’s always loved.”

 

“Well, so long as he can handle her at her…most interesting.” Harry said quietly to his husband as their group made their way into the little anteroom off the Great Hall.

 

Once they were inside, Severus decided – for the sake of his daughter – to test it. He aimed his wand at Devon and – being careful to control the spell – muttered. “Sectumsempra.”

 

Devon gasped in pain as a shallow cut appeared on his upper arm. His hand pressed to the tear in his shirt and came away wet with blood. “What the hell?”

 

Araminta snarled and her eyes changed in a heartbeat, becoming eight shiny black spider eyes. Her tongue darted out, long and thin and dangerous, and the clicking started. “Who did it?” She spat, the fury radiating off her in waves. “Who hurt my Mate?”

 

Severus smiled gently at his daughter. “It’s just a scratch, sweet Mint. I’m merely checking something. I suggest you check on Devon’s injury.”

 

Mint growled at her father, but everything in her said she shouldn’t attack him, so she turned to see to Devon. “Are you alright?” She breathed, the clicking sound underlining her question as she let her fingers move over the cut on his arm. “It doesn’t seem bad…”

 

“I’m fine.” Devon assured her. He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her face up, curious about the clicking sound as well as why she was keeping her eyes lowered and, now that he’d lifted her face, she even had them closed. “Why did your father hex me?”

 

“To show you what I can be.” She murmured. “To make sure you can handle it.” Then she opened her eyes and let him see. She blinked slowly, then let her tongue dart out. And seeing no revulsion on his face, only curiosity and love, Araminta opened her mouth to reveal the source of the quiet clicking. Then she asked quietly. “Do I disgust you?”

 

“Of course not.” Devon kissed her lips softly and was intrigued to see her eyes switch back to two normal green ones in the span of a blink. Her tongue darted out – pink and human – to wet her lips and the clicking disappeared. “That’s interesting.” Since he hadn’t taken the LDA class, he didn’t know as much about the Chelicerata as some. “Do you do that often?”

 

“Every time we have sex, though only for a short while.” She admitted, blushing slightly. “And any time you’re physically attacked. And…um…I think Dad said if I’m in enough pain.”

 

“Labor does it to me every time.” Harry chirped cheerfully.  Then, glancing at Severus, he added. “And while I don’t approve of Sev’s approach, I’m relieved Devon seems able to handle it. Not everyone can and I’m aware of how disconcerting it can be.”

 

Devon grinned, sliding an arm around Araminta’s waist and pulling her up against his side. “I completely understand. I can see how that might be…off-putting, we’ll say, to some people. But I love Mint, and whether she has two eyes or eight or a hundred doesn’t matter. She’s still Mint.”

 

“Now that that’s settled.” Severus drawled. He shot a quick healing spell at Devon and then cast reparo on the boy’s shirt, adding. “Harry and I have some news.”

 

Addy looked between his parents; Severus looked smug and Harry was glowing. He burst out laughing, turning to bury his face in Draco’s chest while his shoulders shook with mirth. When he finally calmed down to find everyone staring at him, he giggled and said. “Oh, come on! You mean you can’t guess, just from looking at them? We’re _obviously_ getting a new sibling!”

 

And when Severus smirked and Harry blushed, confirming it, pandemonium erupted. Everyone surged forward, congratulating the two men on the newest addition to their family. Things only got more hectic as Ivy giddily announced her own pregnancy; her first, in fact. While all of this was going on, with stomachs being patted and Hermione and Harry sharing stories of past-pregnancies, Araminta watched with a soft smile as her twin slipped out with his new Mate.

 

She would go soon herself, slipping off to her private room with Devon to consummate their Bond. But Professor Malfoy was the impatient sort and she could tell he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her twin brother. And from the wicked smile curving Adariane’s lips as he shot her a sly wink before disappearing through the door, she knew Addy was just as eager. When Devon gave her a warm, soft smile and she glimpsed the heat in his deep blue eyes, she thought she could understand why.

 

A few more minutes with her family, she decided, celebrating the new lives to come, and then she’d take her Mate to bed. And start on her very own Happily Ever After. With any luck, it would be just as perfect as her parents’ still was.

 

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading this! I'm terribly sorry if Harry creeped anyone out; I had a BLAST creating and writing the Chelicerata, though.
> 
> Reviews make me SO happy! <3
> 
> ~ Lady S.


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